


you remember it (all too well)

by bestthreemonths



Category: Her Name in the Sky - Kelly Quindlen
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-24 13:21:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8373733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bestthreemonths/pseuds/bestthreemonths
Summary: After all this time, sometimes their past still comes back to haunt them.





	

**Author's Note:**

> All you really need to know about this fic is that I was writing it on my Google Docs app (not #sponsored, but call me, Google) on my walk home from work this evening and a bird pooped directly on my phone screen.

Every time Baker wakes up in Hannah’s arms, she can't believe how long she allowed herself to go without this feeling. As soon as she realizes she's awake, before she even opens her eyes she snuggles even deeper into Hannah’s side, more content than ever before.

“Good morning,” Hannah mumbles into Baker’s hair.

Baker hums softly to acknowledge Hannah, but she keeps her eyes closed while Hannah rubs circles over her back, her cool hands sliding underneath Baker’s pajama shirt so they're touching her warm back. The action makes Baker’s hair stand on end, but before long, Hannah’s skin and hers are the same temperature—a happy medium.

“I love you,” Hannah murmurs.

Hearing those words makes Baker’s eyes flutter open to look at Hannah’s face, and she smiles when she sees Hannah’s soft smile. “I love you too,” she replies, her voice gravelly with sleep. She kisses her jaw, the only place she can reach without completely re-situating her body.

They chat for a while, mindless mumbles about their dreams the night before and how they really should get up but don’t want to, before Baker finally succumbs to her bladder, rolling out of bed to scamper to the bathroom.

When she’s done, she brushes her teeth while Hannah pees, mumbling something unintelligible around her toothbrush about how unsanitary this probably is.

“Yeah, but it’s what’ll happen when we live together and get ready together every morning,” Hannah reminds her with a kiss when she’s done washing her hands. “Mint.”

Baker scrunches up her nose. “And you not so much,” she says. “Brush your teeth and get your cute butt back to bed so we can make out before we have to meet my friends for brunch.”

When Hannah steps out of the bathroom, Baker is lying on her back, scrolling through her Instagram feed. “You’re beautiful,” she says.

“No, you,” Baker replies with a grin, putting her phone down on her nightstand. “Come here.”

Hannah climbs onto the bed so she’s hovering over Baker, her lips inches from Baker’s.

“Kiss me,” Baker whines, squirming beneath her.

Hannah wants to make a witty comment, but she is powerless. When Baker wants to be kissed, Baker gets kissed. No exceptions.

As is often the case with Baker, being pinned underneath Hannah isn't enough after a few moments, and she flips them so she's straddling Hannah, barely disconnecting their lips like the pro she is.

“I love kissing you,” Baker breathes, sitting up so she can pull her hair back, a sure sign that she plans on doing more than kissing. They definitely don't have time for that, but Hannah definitely isn't complaining. “I think it's my favorite thing.”

“Oh yeah?” Hannah murmurs as Baker leans back down to kiss her neck. “Even more than kissing Clay?”

Baker stops abruptly and lets out an exasperated sigh, rolling off of Hannah completely. “Thanks, Han,” she says. “You ruined the mood.”

“Oh, come on,” Hannah says, rolling her eyes. “Come here.”

Baker shrugs away from her reach, suddenly on a desperate search for clothes or a bathrobe, anything to cover up. “Get up, we need to get ready.”

“We still have like an hour and a half,” Hannah protests, but Baker ignores her as she rummages through her drawers. Instead of stripping down and changing right there, she goes into her bathroom, closing the door with an unmistakable slam.

Hannah’s grateful when Christen knocks on the door a few minutes later to borrow a pair of Baker’s earrings, for one because she and Baker aren't in a compromising position, but also because Christen’s presence means Baker won't blow up right before brunch.

Baker’s face is set in a frown when she walks out of the bathroom, but she softens upon seeing Christen. “Hey!” she exclaims.

Hannah knows her face as the one she uses when she's pretending everything is fine, but Christen doesn't seem fazed.

“Hannah,” Baker says. “Bathroom’s open for you. Please be fast, I need to use the mirror when you're done.”

When Hannah emerges from the bathroom, Christen is sitting primly at the foot of Baker’s bed, which Baker made. She rarely makes the bed when Hannah’s there, but maybe it's because she rarely gets the chance. She always washes Hannah’s sheets and makes her bed before leaving when she visits her at Emory, and Hannah knows that's one of the many ways Baker says “I love you.”

Baker looks up from her spot, cross-legged and leaning against her headboard, going suddenly, suspiciously quiet. 

“Bathroom’s open,” Hannah says, looking between them.

“Thanks,” Baker says, hopping up and giving her a soft smile. Hannah doesn't miss the smirk on Christen’s face when Baker gives Hannah a peck on the cheek as she passes.

“You two are so cute,” Christen says with a smile as Hannah resorts to Baker’s tiny vanity mirror for her make-up. “She loves you so much.”

Hannah blushes. She still isn’t 100 percent sure how to act around Baker’s sorority sisters, especially Christen, who’s clearly one of Baker’s closest friends. She knows whenever she and Baker argue, Christen is the one who gets to hear Baker vent, a role usually reserved for Hannah. So she smiles and mumbles “I’m lucky” before changing the subject to how Christen’s classes are going.

Baker holds Hannah’s hand when they walk to brunch without much of a second thought as far as Hannah can tell, but she seems relieved to have Christen, and later Jordan and her other friends, a conglomeration of volleyball friends and sorority sisters, there. They talk around each other, and Hannah misses the way Baker whispers her side comments, little remarks that refer to inside jokes they have, and winks at her when nobody is paying attention.

Warm, giggly Baker turns back to stone-cold angry girlfriend when they’re back in her room and everyone’s gone. When Baker’s upset, it tends to wear off sooner or later, at which point Hannah’s usually more likely to apologize, even if she knows she wasn’t wrong. Because their time together is so fleeting these days, both girls would rather kiss and make up, but this doesn’t seem like one of those times.

“Can we talk?” Baker asks, locking the door to her bedroom, tucked away safe at the end of the hall in the sorority house of which she’s now president.

“Bake,” Hannah sighs. “It was a dumb comment. I’m sorry, okay? Please don’t let it ruin our weekend.”

“I’d rather you not apologize just because you feel like you have to,” Baker says, her voice sharp but soft. “Why do you think I’m upset?”

“Because you don’t like talking about the Clay stuff,” Hannah says. “Neither do I. I just thought it was… I don’t know.”

“Funny?” Baker asks. “Because honestly, I don’t see the humor in it. And maybe we should talk about it.”

“Talk about what?”

“It’s been three years,” Baker says. “This is the one thing we just don’t talk about. It’s like everything in the world is on the table except that. As much as I love a relationship where I can whine about my period cramps and indigestion, I don’t think it’s healthy to have topics that are completely off limits.”

“It’s not,” Hannah says, but her shaky voice betrays her.

“I don’t like talking about the Clay stuff because I know how bad it hurt you,” Baker says, sitting on the bed beside Hannah. “But it’s also part of the most painful time of my life, and I think you forget that.”

“Of course I don’t forget that,” Hannah says, a lump forming in her throat.

She tries as hard as she can to forget how frail Baker felt in her arms the night she got sick at the party, how her insides burned when Joanie told her what she knew all along somewhere deep down, that Baker and Clay had sex, how she swore she’d drop dead on the spot when she heard Clay call Baker— _her_ Baker—”baby.” But as hard as she tries to forget, she can’t. Those feelings—those awful, sickening feelings—are just as much part of their story as the night they first made love, the first time Baker held her hand and kissed her in public, and every single time since.

“So let’s talk about it,” Hannah says finally. “I want to know you more than I’ve ever wanted to know anyone. Even the super sucky parts.”

Baker laughs, sniffling a bit. “No pun intended.”

“Baker,” Hannah warns. She wants to be playful, but she feels like she’s going to vomit.

“I know,” Baker says, lowering her eyes. “I’m sorry.” She takes a deep, staggered breath, letting it all the way out before speaking. “The whole time I wished you weren’t my first,” she says. “Guilt and shame and self-hatred aside, you ruined me for anyone else.”

 

“And you me,” Hannah says softly, smiling. “Then again, kissing a boy when you aren’t really into boys is kind of a mistake all around.”

“Yeah, so’s sleeping with someone when you’re in love with someone else,” Baker says. “Regardless of gender.”

Hannah nods, placing her hand over Baker’s.

“That night at Liz’s,” Baker says. “When you rescued me, it wasn’t the first time I’d been that drunk. Just the combination of that and not eating got to me. I still don’t remember much of it, and the memory of you being there feels like a dream. You’re all blurry and soft around the edges, like an angel, but I know it’s you.”

Baker’s been sick from drinking once or twice since, and Hannah’s held her after helping her throw up (and vice versa), but nothing will ever shake Hannah to the core like that night.

“I think part of it was knowing that if I was drunk, Clay couldn’t—he wouldn’t—” Hannah nods, understanding. “He was always a perfect gentleman,” Baker continues. “But he wasn’t you. And he tried too hard. When you and I weren’t—well, when we weren’t on good terms—he was on my side, obviously. But like, to an extent I didn’t like. I never hated you, no matter how much I wanted to. But he thought I did, I guess. I changed the subject anytime you came up because I couldn’t stand hearing anything other people had to say about you.”

“It’s okay,” Hannah whispers. She’s talked to Clay since, had plenty of late-night conversations on the porch after Six Pack reunions when everyone else is sleeping or watching a movie inside, and he’s apologized for every slight, but Hannah never considered how it affected Baker at the time.

Baker’s lip quivers, and Hannah reaches out to wrap an arm around her. “It’s not,” Baker insists.

“It was so long ago,” Hannah says. “If it hurts too much—”

“No!” Baker snaps. “Let me finish. I owe it to you to explain why it bothers me when you say—what you did earlier.”

“About being better than Clay at kissing.” Hannah isn’t much for beating around the bush, especially when it comes to ending a conversation she’d really rather not have.

“That,” Baker says. “When Clay asked me my best make out ever, it was the most panicked I’ve ever been. Well, up to that point. I was more scared at that moment than after we kissed for the first time.”

“Because I’m a really good kisser.”

“Shut up,” Baker grumbles, leaning her head on Hannah’s shoulder. “Making out with you was a sin—so I thought—but so is lying. And I knew you were better than him. But I also hadn’t told you about making out with him. For a lot of reasons.”

“So can you blame me for wanting to make sure I’m always the best?” Hannah teases.

“No, and that’s the problem,” Baker says. “It’s my fault you’d ever even question that, and to think that you remember that three years later bothers me. When I’m hooking up with you, I don’t want to think about anything else, especially not him or that.”

“There are definitely things that turn me on more,” Hannah muses.

“Like what?” Baker murmurs, turning her head slightly to kiss Hannah’s neck.

“Like the idea of long walks with you to get ice cream,” Hannah says. “The ice cream part is mostly what gets me going.”

Baker swats Hannah’s thigh playfully, and Hannah laughs.

“And knowing that I’m the best make out you’ve ever had.”

Baker’s face turns solemn, and she pulls away to look up at Hannah, eyes wide beneath her impossibly long eyelashes. “From now till forever, you’re the best make out I’ve ever had. You’re the best everything I’ve ever had.”

Hannah smiles, leaning in to kiss Baker’s lips, the softest and most perfect part of her soft, perfect girlfriend. “Mm, that word turns me on, too.”

“What word?” Baker laughs against Hannah’s lips, which have already widened across her teeth into a grin.

“Forever.”


End file.
